C772 Missile

Nassir Dawson stood in the air, coughing violently. Every time he coughed, his aura would weaken, and even his hair would turn gray. In the end, his black hair that was as black as ink would turn into half gray and half white. His aura was like a candle in the wind, about to go out at any moment.

However, no one in the valley, no matter whether it was Matheus or the wolf clan